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ERROL

T he car unlocks with a chirp and a flash of headlights. Ran turns to me. “Where are you parked? I can drop you off by your car and follow you.”

“I actually don’t have a car. Finn’s is close enough that I just walk.

” Ran looks surprised, so I add, “I do still have my license and all. I just didn’t have a car for long enough that I got used to it.

I drove my Gran’s —you know, drove her around after she couldn’t anymore —but I sold it after she died.

It needed a lot of work by that point. I decided I’d rather put the money I could scrape up into the house,” I say with a shrug as I open the passenger door and get in.

“Gotcha.” Ran nods as he gets behind the wheel.

“Um, thank you for not getting freaked out when I told you I’ve been keeping track of your career and… life. I wasn’t trying to make things weird, I swear.” Oh, for the love of fuck, shut your trap —are you trying to screw this up?

Ran sort of laughs and shakes his head. “I wasn’t going to tell you this because I thought I’d make things weird, but I, uh, didn’t mind. It made me feel important. And guilty.” His expression turns shamefaced. “I should’ve stayed in touch —I’m sorry. Thank you for not being mad.”

“I’m just happy that you’re back. I missed you.”

He glances at me, and I see his swallow bob in his throat. “Missed you, too.”

“ T he house still needs a lot of work,” I say as I walk Ran through what used to be the living and dining rooms. I spent a good chunk of last winter knocking down the wall between them to create a bright, airy living space.

In the kitchen, I gesture towards the old-school, yellow-and-orange-patterned linoleum floor.

“I haven’t decided yet, but I’m leaning towards keeping this.

It’s so bad, it’s almost good, you know?

” When Ran responds with a laugh, something flutters low in my belly.

It’s the same laugh that would echo in my ears long after I’d gone home after sitting on his futon playing video games or just shooting the shit for hours.

Back in the living room, I look down at the suitcase and pair of plastic bins I helped Ran lug in from the car. “So, where’s the rest of your stuff?”

“Well, I let Eliza keep the furniture,” he says with a shrug. “She picked most of it out —and sitting and sleeping and eating on it every day would make me think of her and just piss me the hell off. The rest of my clothes and books and shit are in a storage unit.”

“OK, let’s bring these up and I’ll show you the spare room.” I grab one of the bins and lead the way up the stairs. “Ooh, watch that one. The tread is a little loose. I haven’t gotten around to fixing it yet.”

“You’ve been fixing this place up yourself?” The surprise in Ran’s voice sends a glow of pride through me. “I mean, I know you said you were working on it, but I didn’t know you meant you were doing all the work personally.”

“Well, yeah. Not like I’ve got the money to pay anybody to do this kind of shit.”

“Where’d you learn handyman skills?”

I chuckle. “A lot of online tutorials. And there’s definitely been some trial and error along the way.”

“That’s cool,” Ran says. I know if I reply, I’ll say something self-deprecating, which he’ll chide me for. I don’t want to argue with him, so I stay quiet until we get to the spare bedroom.

“If you don’t like it in here, I turned the third bedroom to a home office, so I could move my stuff into this one if you —”

“No, no —I would never ask you to do that.” Ran looks a little abashed. “This will be great, I’m sure.” When he plunks down onto the bed, though, he can’t quite hide the uncomfortable look on his face.

I cringe. “Yeah, that mattress isn’t the best. Actually, it’s probably fifteen years old at least , so I’m sure it really sucks.

” I rub the back of my neck and figure this is as good an opening as I’m going to get.

“So, um, listen. You can treat my house like a crash pad if you’re looking for an apartment around here.

But I’m not — I don’t mind if you want to stay here.

You know, on a more long-term basis.” I study his face carefully, trying to see what he’s thinking.

Ran looks surprised. And grateful — I definitely see gratitude in his eyes. “I wasn’t expecting this. I don’t want to upend your life and all.”

“Upend it,” I blurt out as I give up trying to act nonchalant. My emotions steamroll my cautiously polite approach. “I’d actually be happy with the company. I mean, I don’t want any random-ass roommate, but I’d be really happy with your company. If that works for you, of course.”

I’m thrilled to see relief on Ran’s face. “Are you sure?”

“A hundred and ten percent,” I assure him.

The bed squeaks when he gets up and we hug for the second time today. I’m surprised at the nakedly fierce need I feel in his embrace. His ex must’ve done a number on his self-esteem.

I don’t let my self-consciousness about my belly stop me from returning the hug.

The fabric of his expensive T-shirt is almost comically soft against my face.

When I inhale, I breathe in the crisp scent of cedar and salt with a hint of something wild and warm-blooded underneath. Damn, Ran even smells like California.

My mind drifts back. The summer before senior year, he got in the habit of throwing an arm around me in a quick goodbye hug when I left his parents’ house.

Every single time, I reminded myself that it didn’t mean anything, that it was just what friends —even guy friends —did.

But once I got home to the privacy of my room, I would shut my eyes and press the front of my jacket or hoodie to my face, hoping to catch the lingering scent of him on the fabric.

Since I don’t want Ran to feel awkward, I start talking as soon as we separate.

“So, I was thinking. If you’re planning to stay here, you’re welcome to order a new mattress, and I can just toss this old thing.

I mean, I don’t care if you want to replace the rest of the furniture in here, too.

I’m sure grandma-garage-sale isn’t exactly the kind of aesthetic you were used to in New York City,” I say with a laugh to cover my embarrassment.

Thank God I at least got the damn wallpaper off in here already. The walls are a warm light gray that brings out the richness of the dark walnut shade I used to refinish the floor. Ran glances around. “This is nice , actually. I really like the floor. You did this yourself, too?”

Sanding down and restaining the hardwood was a big job, so I preen at his compliment. “Yeah, thanks! I was thinking about redoing all the floors in this color, but wanted to try it out in one room first in case I wound up hating it or the color didn’t come out right.”

I glance up and make a face at the godawful brass fixture in the center of the ceiling. “Ugh, I'll get that swapped out, too. This weekend —promise. I’ve got the model I want bookmarked. I just hadn't gotten around to ordering it yet. I was going to see if I could find it at a discount any —”

“Hey, hey — Errol.” Ran’s tone stops me in my tracks. “It’s fine. Really. More than fine. I wasn’t expecting any of this, so it’s not like I had any standards or expectations.” He gives his head a little shake. “I just can’t thank you enough. I’m really happy about this.”

Not as happy as I am. I can’t tell him that, though. I’ll never get the chance to be all I want to be for him. But he’s still my best friend. Just like before, that has to be good enough.

So why is it so hard to ignore the pang in my chest when I think about the way his arms felt around me?